


Balance

by Yaoiflame9



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, angbang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 08:27:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3403820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yaoiflame9/pseuds/Yaoiflame9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love and devotion belong solely to others, and are not, by any circumstance, reserved for the likes of Melkor. Or are they? If Elves and Men can be infested by darkness, why should not be otherwise for the Dark Lord and his servant? To that, histories never paid heed, despite the fact that love between Melkor and Sauron could be on par with that of Beren and Luthien, Thingol and Melian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Balance

In the dim light of the vast, cold room, there on the throne sat a dark lonely figure of Melkor. His thoughts were scattered and discouraging, now that the War of Wrath had been raised against him. The forces of everything that stood for right, luminous, and beautiful now stood before his gates, in the siege long and tiring. Soon that, too, would be broken and his beautiful fortress of Angband exposed to destruction. For many an hour he sat there, a formidable figure in fine robes of dark material, with broad shoulders and long, dark hair to complement his features and hide his scars. 

A hand appeared from the darkness, from behind the throne. A big, white hand that had seen sorcery, craftsmanship, and battle, slowly reached until it gently rested on the Dark Lord’s face. Into the dim light stepped Sauron, whose hand it was. His features were tender and beautiful, and behind it lingered malice and evil, yet still a tad of softness with unspoken worry for the well being of his master and their cause was also present. 

Melkor placed his charred hand on top of Sauron’s and they remained like this for a brief period. “I know what ails you, my Lord, and if you will allow me, I have a proposition for our little problem”, said Sauron and gently took his hand out of Melkor’s grasp, swiftly moving in front of him and kneeling before him. 

“Sauron...”Melkor directed his look toward him and studied his kneeling figure. Sauron was tall and formidable, with broad shoulders and long, blond hair that deceived others into believing, for most part, that he was fair, noble, and benevolent. The Maia lifted his head to look at his master. “After all that has happened during these agonizing times, one would be fool if they did not think this all was something of Eru’s concoction.” He began. “After all, all of us were created from his own thought. And if I wanted to defect and be on my own and have things of my own, then that was solely because it was his intention to make me that way and make it natural for me to act upon it.” He pondered out loud, while his servant listened with great attention. 

“My guess would be that he wanted to create some sort of balance in the world, where all of us, the other Valar and myself, and other spirits, were essential for whatever purpose he had created us. Do you not think so? And yet, he who claims to be on the side of the ‘good’, was himself the creator of ‘unfair’, seeing as how he allowed Aulë to create Dwarves and forbade me to create something of my own. True, I have gone much further in my ambition, but from the onset, I had not been treated equally. So, my point is, nothing is uncorrupted, even Eru himself, who can be cruel as well. And who knows, perhaps this all is his game, perhaps there is another world where beings of my kind are prevailing, and beings of the fairer, ‘good’ kind fewer, and conflicting. And seeing it as such, perhaps you, Sauron, my greatest servant, are the proof of it. For from good you fell into evil and from evil again into good; for you had, from betrayal, my loyal subject, birthed loyalty unconditional, a quality that was meant for the others, and not us.” He placed his hand gently on top of Sauron’s head, and beheld him with the softness unheard of in his realms. 

“Your words, as always, have merit in them and should be deeply admired and taken into account, my Lord”, replied Saurn. “Shall I tell you now of the plan I have imagined?” This was met with a slight nod, so he proceeded. “In the greatest heights of Thangorodrim, on the day that you first bestowed upon me the kiss binding, out of my mouth came a grain of soil, and I have kept it to this day. Should the need come, this will be the seed I will plant in the lands I acquire and build a new kingdom for you. A hundred times darker, a hundred times worthier of your presence and rule. It shall grow into a formidable force, all-conquering, ever present.” He spoke softly, but in fervor. This all Melkor listened with utmost delight. 

“And from good came devotion, “retorted he,” and to good it will fire back. Devotion traveled into darkness and it serves me well, Sauron. And from good came love and I acknowledged it. From good came forgiveness, penetrated my darkness, and I forgive you for your thinking I would come to fail, but from good came acknowledgement and I do see that my war is coming to its end, where I would lose. What shall befall me, I do not know. But you are allowed to do so, should the need arise.” 

And indeed it was as Melkor said, for as much as he had been invaded with the qualities of good, he had invaded the hearts of others with his darkness. Each and every being had always possessed two parts, light and darkness, of which was always one more dominant than the other, sometimes living in balance, and at times in discord.  
***

It had taken many a thousand years for Melkor to process and understand such things, battling them quietly inside himself until he had no choice but to accept them and try to use them to his advantage. One of which he had also seen in Sauron, the nobler counterpart of the emotion he, the great Dark Lord had created—lust. For many centuries he had been watching his right hand secretly look at him and the way he looked gave away what he felt. Had it been mere lust, Melkor would have understood and would say nothing, but there was yet another emotion he was only beginning to notice, but not identify. 

Soon, many more years had passed before their eyes, when he had caught himself secretly directing that same gaze in Sauron’s direction, when the latter was not looking. And hence began their silent game of looks, where, at one point, both of them revealed to one another, openly casting glances, but otherwise never acting upon it. It was reassuring and interesting, intriguing in the least, the challenging, electrifying battle of fiery looks of longing and love. For, to his utmost dismay, Melkor had let love creep into his heart and poison his dark being forged of hatred.  
It would have been unheard of if any of the two did anything about it, be it only confessing, so they maintained their relationship in such fashion, longing for each other when Sauron was away, and being relieved when they finally united. 

However, a day had come when Luthien seduced Melkor, and stole his Silmaril. That one time, lust, the thing of his creation, had turned against him. Hearing about the incident, Sauron’s longing gaze had been replaced with one of indifference and, at times, deep disappointment. He had known it was not his place to judge his master, but his own feelings were betraying him. Melkor never begrudged him this, for his lieutenant always had a formal stance, formal speech, deep respect behind the look of disappointment and sadness. To the Dark Lord it seemed that even the feeling originating from ‘good’, too, had abandoned him and he deeply regretted it.

Sauron had always been by his side, even in the times of great madness caused by the Silmarils in Melkor’s crown. So, after centuries of watching him being consumed by them, he had crafted a special chest for the crown, and through long, exhausting and exasperating negotiations, had finally persuaded Melkor to put it away and end his torment. For this, Melkor had learned gratefulness, for now there was nothing to cloud his wisdom, albeit it was probably too late to be on the winning side again. 

They never spoke much about anything, talking about feelings was unheard of. But that day, as the Maia was standing and watching the vast lands before him and thinking of how to conquer them for his master, Melkor came to him and said, “You always seek to create, to recreate, to bring things to order, and as such, you are the balancing force in my intention of destroying everything in my path”, and with that, he gently kissed the Maia, and turned back, leaving him in wonder. 

After that, their affair began tentatively and slowly, and was often interrupted by Sauron’s departures. And upon each return, tired and battered, he was welcomed into Melkor’s chambers, where he was properly bathed and fed, and where the two would make fierce, incessant love for many hours, filling the gap of being separated for a long period of time. 

Both being wise, they, however, never let this filthy feeling of love cloud their judgment, so Melkor was, for instance, always prepared to kill Sauron should he prove unworthy, and Sauron never mixed this privilege of equality in bed or in private chambers in general, with his actual duties as the right hand of Morgoth, the enemy of everyone. He instead stood by his side, lending him his wisdom and strength whenever they were needed.  
***  
In this darkest hour of Angband, the last words spoken as the words to live by were from Melkor to Sauron, and he said, ”You are my legacy, Sauron. Never forget that.” And Sauron never did. In his grief and fanaticism, he did many things, he made Melkor a god, he was pleasuring himself as he watched the bodies of mortals burn in his master’s name, and, never being able to soothe himself by creating and doing good, never being able to purge himself from pain by repentance, by doing evil and harming others as well, he finally fell into madness, thinking that by becoming Melkor, or a being similar to him, would rid him of his pain. The seed of their kiss, their offspring, the dark land of Mordor also became just a piece of scorched land and he and his lover cast into oblivion.

Of this, histories never told, for merits such as love were never associated with dark places of Angband and Mordor, in the false assumption that Eru’s power and intentions was good and unprecedented. In truth, Melkor never really hated Elves or Men or Dwarves, but abhorred his inability to create something of his own, and in that hatred he found reassurance. Instead, he created what he could and in his eyes, they were beautiful, his Orcs, his Balrogs. Histories also never told of the love between the two dark lords, instead choosing to tell about great loves of the other side, the winning side always gets to write the history, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I got interested in writing and understanding the ‘other’ side in this matter, Melkor’s and Sauron’s. You will notice that I took some liberty with their looks, and I did so inspired by some illustrations that I found most pleasing. You can find them here:  
> Sauron:  
> http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2013/184/3/1/3_07_13_by_anastasiyacemetery-d6bruob.png
> 
> Melkor:  
> https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/9f/28/a2/9f28a2730c89e2ade53b6fc0ec02332b.jpg  
> Also, I purposefully left out the pronouns such as thou, thee, and such, and chose to use the modern ones instead, but was still trying to maintain the formal speech.  
> I hope the characters were indeed in character, and if they were not, I hope that at least at some point they were.  
> Disclaimer: I own only this story.  
> If you want to share this elsewhere, please ask me first.


End file.
